Shock Collar
by TypewriterTardis
Summary: Stiles goes to Derek's house, Kate is up to her evil tricks, and Sterek ensues. I suck at summaries I'm sorry. I also suck at rating things and figuring out genres for anything other than angst and romance.


**A/N: Um I'm not really sure what this is? Idk man it's sort of weird. It's Sterek. Some angst, some physical suffering, some fluff, some sarcastic!Stiles (which is basically just Stiles!Stiles). Also evil!Kate (which is just Kate!Kate, so yeah). Have fun... I guess.**

When the car door slammed, Derek froze mid-pushup. It wasn't a car door he recognized. Too big. It had that distinctive soft sound of a new car, large and sleek. In a flash (quite literally), he was upstairs and peering out the window at the large black car sitting on the forest floor in front of his house...

But it wasn't alone. Not just his black Camaro either.

No. A beat-up old blue Jeep.

Derek cursed under his breath. _Stiles. Goddamn him._

And then the voices on the porch.

"You know Derek?" That woman. Derek flinched involuntarily.

"N-No. I was just curious. Y-Y'know, big, burnt-out, empty house in the woods, I-" The stammerer was Stiles.

"Empty, huh? With that... snazzy car parked there?" Her again. "You knew it wasn't empty, kid. Just admit it. So why don't you head on home to mommy and everything will be a lot easier..." Derek heard Stiles's heart beat a little faster, his breathing quicken, then a sharp buzzing noise cut through it and Derek tensed.

"Jesus Christ, what in hell is _that_?" Derek could picture Stiles, arms flailing, leaping backwards, away from the painfully blue stick, pulsing with electricity. How many watts? Derek didn't want to think about it. He moved.

"Oh, this isn't what's from hell," he heard Her say, humor lacing her voice like poison. "It's what's in _there_ that's from Hell, kiddo. Believe me."

The buzzing again, sharp and quick.

Derek winced, pain and fear shooting through him, not because of the sound of Kate Argent's electrical torture device, but because of Stiles's scream of pure agony. Oh, and the sound of him collapsing to the porch floor, pure. Dead. Weight. _Please not dead,_ Derek pleaded.

"Stop."

Kate blinked, withdrawing her arm from Stiles's throat. She cocked her head at the half-naked Derek standing in the doorway, a smile playing across her lips. "Just checking his vitals," she said.

"You could have killed him," Derek informed her, coldly.

"Could have, not did," she said quickly, latching onto the one word. When he didn't say anything in return, she laughed. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. You dogs can hear human heartbeats, can't you?" She laughed again, shifting her weight to one side.

Derek said nothing.

"So you came out here to brave the... shock for this little boy..." Kate whispered, licking her lips, smiling just the hint of a smile at the word 'shock,' laughing at her own joke.

Still Derek said nothing.

"You actually _care_ about him, Hale?" Kate moved closer to Stiles's unconscious form.

Finally, Derek moved, stepping forward and giving Kate the coldest, hardest look, fire burning in his dark eyes. "Keep away from him."

Kate froze. "Is doggie angry?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You really do care, Hale. Threatening your life isn't good enough, but finding someone you... dare I say it, _love_ is. You know, another blast will probably," she paused to lick her lips, "finish him off." She reached down towards the half-dead boy on the floor.

Derek threw himself forward. Quick as lightning, Kate Argent turned her weapon on him, catching him in the center of his chest, the blue light flaring. Derek dropped like a stone to the ground beside Stiles, white as a sheet, curling into a ball.

"Not so brave now, are you, Hale?" She laughed mockingly. "And nothing to stop me from..." She turned to Stiles, reaching out with with her weapon –

Derek moved so quickly she could barely see it, knocking her hand away and draping himself across Stiles's torso to hide him from her.

"How touching," Kate smirked, humorlessly, jabbing him in the stomach. He doubled over, crawling away from her, from Stiles, still lying helpless behind them.

"I have something for you," she teased, forcing Derek up against a pillar, reaching reaching for the black bag by the stairs he'd missed. She slid a hand inside, her eyes shining with actual excitement. Derek watched her hands, his eyes wide, breathing hard, the pain in his chest and stomach buzzing through him still. She pulled out a circular thing, black, with a clasp unhooked at each end. "Think of it as an early birthday present."

Derek shrunk away.

"Every dog needs a good shock collar," Kate said softly, laying her weapon on the ground. "Oh no," she laughed, watching his eyes follow it and shoving it behind her carefully. "No tricks for you." Reaching up, she slid the collar around his neck, clasping it behind his head. Her hair tickled his shoulders, one of her hands slid down his chest, across his stomach. "If you weren't, y'know, a vicious monster that I'm sworn to hunt down and kill, I'd pity you. I imagine the pain will be... simply unimaginable," Kate breathed in his ear. "But it really is a shame to do this. You're so... fit."

Derek grimaced. "You're not really my type," he managed. "Much as you like to think I go for... bitches," he spat out, "I really don't go for evil ones like you."

Kate pulled back, eyes narrowed. "So that whole sympathy thing, forget I said that." She reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a black remote control.

Derek's breathing quickened. Even a werewolf couldn't heal a hear that just _stopped_ beating. And what would she do to Stiles when he was –

Her finger pressed down on the button and the world went white, his body convulsing, a scream ripping from his lips.

Blackness faded to gray, Kate's face coming into focus, her voice saying, "Aw honey, did that hurt –"

Kate's eyes rolled back in her head as she screamed, body jerking, face contorting.

She fell, revealing Stiles, on his knees, arms outstretched holding that electric _thing_.

"Holy crap, Derek, that bitch is _evil_!" he said.

Derek fainted.

The world remained black, but the sensation in his neck told him that fingertips were brushing across his skin. The sound of a human hear beat was loud in his ears, pounding, racing. Stiles was upset.

Stiles.

Derek forced his eyes open. Stiles was leaned over him, his fingers fumbling for the clasp at the back of the shock collar. The pain in Derek's neck redoubled and he moaned.

"Sweet Jesus!" squeaked Stiles, falling backwards onto the porch. He landed on Kate's hand, scrambling away from her, panicked, his heart speeding up "_Oh_ my God, holy crap, what even –" He shoved the weapon further away from her. True to his Stiles-like ways, he couldn't resist a taunt. "Not gonna fall for my old trick, no way." He made a face at her. She stayed still, not a muscle moving. She didn't even seem to be... breathing. "Oh my god, Derek," Stiles squeaked, crawling towards Kate, face white and eyes wider than seemed possible, "Oh my God, is she... _dead_?" When Derek didn't answer, Stiles whimpered, "Oh God, oh God, I'm a murderer, I killed her, I –"

"Stiles, shut _up_," groaned Derek, scrabbling at the shock collar with his shaking hands. Panic clawed at his heart – he couldn't get it off – it was stuck – he couldn't – it was stuck – help –

"Stiles, help," he rasped out, ripping at the thing.

"Hey, Derek, dude, leave it alone," Stiles ordered, snatching at Derek's hands.

"I – can't – get it off –" Derek gasped, between breaths. "Help – please –"

"Derek, calm down," Stiles snapped, beginning to panic himself. _What if I can't get it off? He'll hyperventilate to death! However much I do not like him, I don't particularly want him to die._ Stiles paused, frowning.

"What's wrong? Can you not –"

"I don't even not like you," Stiles said, grinning madly.

"The hell does that mean," Derek, breathed.

"Nothing," Stiles said, reaching around Derek's neck for the clasp. "Hold still," he murmured as Derek squirmed. "Almost off, almost off."

Click.

The collar fell away in Stiles's hands. "There. Done."

Derek panted, hands going to his neck. "Thank you," he whispered, eyes averted. His hands fell into his lap as he fought to keep himself under control.

"Whoa, dude, your neck," Stiles gasped, crawling forward, hand outstretched. "It looks like a burn or something." Derek winced at the word burn. "Sorry," Stiles muttered. He brushed a finer along the neat line on Derek's neck, angry and red, left by the collar.

"What even happened?" Derek asked, raising his eyes to meet Stiles's gaze.

"Before or after you fainted?" Stiles asked tartly.

"I blacked out," Derek snapped.

"Same difference," Stiles grumbled, but ducked his head to hide a smile. He was secretly enjoying this.

"No, not the same."

"Right, sorry, fainting isn't manly enough, or should I say 'wolfy' enough?"

"Shut up. Before."

"Well, I don't know, I was just about to knock when she drove up behind me and..." Stiles gestured wordlessly. "Pulled out this thing?" His voice rose at the end, characteristically.

Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing Stiles's writs and glaring into his wide, brown eyes. "Right, and in between she talked to you, I heard, alright? But why were you here? Did something happen to Scott? Do you need my help? What happened?"

"N-No," Stiles stuttered. "I just... I..."

"What?"

"I needed somewhere to go and I came here," he whispered, looking down and away from Derek's confused gaze.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "You came _here_? You needed somewhere to go and you came _here_?"

"Uh, yeah, but obviously that was a mistake." Stiles glared. "So, if you think you're alright, I guess I'll being going," he muttered, not meeting Derek's gaze. He rolled back onto his toes, moving as if to stand.

"I don't know about that," Derek began as Stiles lurched forward onto Derek's chest, who sighed, rolling his eyes. "Told you so," he muttered, moving Stiles off him and using the railing to pull himself up. He shut his eyes tight for a moment, fighting off the dizziness. He had to wonder how Stiles had managed it. He was _only_ human, after all. Derek leaned down to gather the unconscious boy into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.

Stiles's eyes fluttered open. "What," he began.

"You fainted," Derek said, almost smiling as he staggered through the door of the house and across the threshold.

"Blacked out," Stiles managed weakly.

"Huh." Derek had to pause at the bottom of the staircase to catch his breath, but he made it upstairs (Stiles hardly weighed more that child, unless Derek's perception of weight was skewed... _Whatever_, he thought brusquely) to the one room on the second floor still strong enough to handle a human's weight on the floor. It was in the front of the house, windows intact, walls blackened, a few holes in the floor. When Derek first went into the room after the fire, he hadn't cared about falling through the floor, had strode into the middle of the floor with careless abandon. But it hadn't given way and plunged him to the floor below. And it had taken a beating since, chairs smashed and fists pounding into it, shots fired through it.

But Derek carried a feeble Stiles across it to a couch in the corner, spectacularly out of place – clean and unburned. He propped Stiles up against the wall. He pulled on a shirt and his characteristic leather jacket and began to roughly drag the cushions from the couch.

"Why are you doing that?" asked Stiles. "It looked perfectly nice to me."

"It turns into a bed," Derek told him shortly.

"Oh," Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Oh for God's sake," Derek sighed and, slower than usual, pulled out the folding bed.

"There," Derek said, setting the cushions on the sides of the couch-now-bed. "I'm pretty sure neither of us can drive after taking that much voltage." He turned to frown at Stiles. "You shouldn't even be alive," he accused, poking a finger into Stiles's chest. "Even _I_ hardly survived that. And I am a –"

"A werewolf, I know." Stiles shrugged, took a step forward and collapsed. Derek caught him with a sigh and an "oh for God's sake." He dragged him to the bed, slung him on to it and crawled on himself.

Stiles woke with his back against the back of the couch and his face pressed into something that smelled strongly of leather. He bit his lip and, very slowly, raised his head to look at Derek lying next to him. "Holy crap," Stiles muttered, staring wide-eyed at the sleepy face on whose chest he had been sleeping, whose arm was draped around his back and waist. Stiles held his breath, slowly pulling himself upright to look at Derek's peaceful features.

"What are you looking at?" Derek asked, without opening his eyes.

Stiles froze, dropping the hand he had raised without even noticing to touch Derek's face. "Um, nothing."

Derek smiled, eyes still closed. "Your racing heart begs to differ."

Stiles's eyes widened. "That is so not fair. Listening to people's hearts is cheating."

"Want to listen to mine?"

Stiles blinked, then leaned forward hesitantly, angling his head to press his ear to Derek's rising and falling chest. Derek sighed.

Then, "I want you to leave."

Stiles jerked back. "What? You bring me upstairs to your... bedroom – you know I've never really wondered hard enough about where you sleep, I mean I guess I knew you lived here – then tell me to listen to your heart and then kick me out?"

Derek ignored him. "What happened? When I said that, what happened to my hear beat?"

"It..." Stiles squinted, trying to remember. "It sped up?" He frowned. "What does that –"

"When someone is lying, what does their heart beat do?"

Stiles froze. "When they're lying? Oh... Oh."

Derek said nothing but opened one eye, then the other to stare into Stiles's face intently. "So..." He nodded encouragingly.

"So... You... Don't want me to leave?"

"Very good."

When Stiles stayed frozen, Derek snaked an arm around his waist and dragged him closer, settling into the back of the couch and sighing, eyes closed. Stiles kept his head carefully above Derek's shoulder, eyes forced open. Derek stifle a laugh and pulled Stiles's head down onto his shoulder, resting his cheek on the younger boy's head... He breathed in the smell of shampoo and the lingering scent of elecricity...

"Damn it, Kate is still on the porch," Derek groaned.

"Leave it," Stiles warned, snuggling closer into Derek's chest, wrapping his arms around his torso. "We can get her later."

"True," Derek said, smiling.

There was silence under the slow breathing of the two people there.

Then, "Doesn't it get lonely, living her all alone?"

"... Yes. But I have all the ghosts of my family to keep me company," Derek said, a little bitterly.

"Wait, ghosts? Don't tell me those exist too, I don't know if I can handle that."

"No."

"Oh, okay then... Well now that I'm here, you won't need any ghosts, real or not."

"No, I won't."

**A/N: Woohoo! First Sterek fic! I just ship it really hard, okay?**


End file.
